A Vulcan Tale
by akili
Summary: Spock tells Nyota a tale from Vulcan. Written in response to a prompt to the ST respect writing competition and used as an entry for Team Ashayam. The guts of Spock's story take heavily from the old Persian/Middle Eastern folk tale Bronze Rings.


Nyota let her head loll against Spock's shoulder. Without moving his head he shifted his eyes to look at her. They were late returning from an away mission at Hanto 11. Spock had stayed behind to gather further samples of, what seemed to be, an electricity based fungus and Nyota had stood by to interpret between the locals and the science officer. When they had requested to beam up, they were informed that a magnetic storm had arisen in the planet's atmosphere and that transporting the pair back aboard was too risky. The inhabitants of the planet allowed the Enterprise's First Officer and Communications Officer use a shuttlecraft on the condition that it would be returned after they arrived back on the ship. The shuttlecraft, if Spock piloted expertly, would be able to avoid the pockets that held the magnetic storm. He had been successful; however, now that they were on the other side of the storm, they had quite some time before returning to the ship. Nyota yawned.

"Perhaps you should take this opportunity to sleep." Spock suggested quietly. Incrementally, he slid his hand over hers.

"I can't. Something about the shuttlecraft's turbulence makes me anxious." She yawned again. Spock felt her mind, confirming that there was a level of fear beneath her growing exhaustion and palpable boredom.

"Is there something that I might do that would soothe you?" Spock let his hand slide across her thigh. Nyota smiled a knowing yet tired smile. She cuddled closer to him.

"Can you tell me a story?" Nyota knew this was not what he wanted to hear, but she pushed the fact that there was an audio monitoring device and black box aboard through their mental connection. Spock seemed confused as to Nyota's meaning. " A story. A fable. Surely there were fables and fairy tales on Vulcan. Something you would tell children that would teach them something? Something magical or mystical?"

"No. There were no such 'stories' on Vulcan Lieutenant Uhura." Spock turned to look at her.

"Oh come on. Surely there was something? What did Vulcans tell their children before the age of Surak? One of the things that I've learned during my studies of language is that almost all cultures employ the use of folklore and tales as a device to develop language skills and educate younger generations. Vulcans can't be the sole exception Commander." Nyota met his eyes.

"Perhaps there was something." Spock said, the edges of his mouth twitching slightly. "Very well Lieutenant." Spock set the shuttlecraft to autopilot and pulled Nyota into his arms. "At one point in our history, before Vulcans were bonded as children, there was a very healthy young woman."

"Commander?" Nyota said into Spock's chest "You're meant to start with 'once upon a time'."

"Am I?" Spock cocked his head to one side.

"Yes. Please begin again." Nyota stifled a giggle.

"Once upon a time," Spock began, " before Vulcans were bonded as children, there was a very healthy young woman. She was nearing the peak of fertility and her body displayed significant reproductive capacity through secondary sexual characteristics. Additionally her hair was thick and dark, her skin smooth and unblemished. She was strong and intelligent. It was well known amongst all of the territories of Vulcan that she would be a fine bond mate because of these attributes."

"Once upon a time, there was a fair maiden of marriageable age, with dark hair, fair face and much charm to recommend her." Nyota laughed.

"Will you be reinterpreting my words the entire time Lieutenant? If so, perhaps I should desist."

"No, no. Just go ahead Commander. I'll keep quiet. I've never heard a Vulcan fairy tale." Nyota yawned again.

"Fairy tale is an inaccurate description. On Vulcan we had no such magical creatures, therefore they would never be able to tell tales."

"Fine. Just continue your story." The shuttlecraft hit a disturbance and Nyota's nails dug into Spock's arm.

"Of course." Spock started again, "This young female, as desirable as she was, had already decided upon a bond mate. The young male was unacceptable to her clan. The female's clan had significant wealth and power, while the young male was the son of a weaponsmith."

"Commander, can you give them names?"

"Their names are of little consequence Lieutenant Uhura. They are, presumably, fictional characters."

"Commander _Spock,"_ Nyota's voice betrayed her tension "I don't think I'll be able to follow along if you're going to refer to every character as a female or male. Please just use a name?"

"If you insist. The female was called T'Muur and the male was called Sasik." Spock leaned back against the wall of the shuttle craft and felt Nyota take a deep breath. "T'Muur went to town every morning in order to buy supplies for her family. Her mother insisted that a servant do it; however, T'Muur was quite logical and knew that a servant would interfere with her plans. T'Muur left before the sun had risen, quickly crossing the arid lands in the morning darkness and arriving at market just as dawn broke."

"Sasik dutifully awaited T'Muur. He could sense her despite their lack of bond and he rose before the Vulcan sun scorched the land to wait for her. His father was infirmed and no longer had the capacity to tend the fires required to temper the metal for the weapons. For Sasik, it was a perfect excuse. As he did every morning, he greeted her in the shade of his father's shop, joining hands and pressing his lips against hers."

"Aww." Nyota sighed. Spock raised an eyebrow at her and continued.

"At the same moment, the king's general had been instructed to call upon Sasik to order battle daggers for his men. He observed the lovers touching in a most inappropriate way. He would have ignored it but he recognized T'Muur as the daughter of one of the king's strongest allies. He said nothing to them, but hurried along and alerted an adviser to the king."

"The adviser determined that it would be illogical to put Sasik to death as he was the best weaponsmith in the kingdom. If he were to die, the king's men would be inadequately armed. With this in mind, the adviser decided not to tell the king. It was an offense punishable by death to take a mate without going through the appropriate rituals. When Vulcan was young, its sons were ruled by passion and at least one male died in pursuit of any worthy bondmate. A female such as T'Muur could draw at least 60 men into a duel and 59 would have to die before a bond was forged for her."

"The adviser told the head of T'Muur's servants. He wanted T'Muur's father to know, but not to kill anyone. The adviser was concerned about the advancing warriors from just beyond the border. He wanted no disability in battle; however, he was bound to do _something. _He would be violating the law himself if he knew of a peasant's liberties with a female of T'Muur's type. T'Muur was a noblewoman who was to take her place beside her father as a patron of the king. It had even been suggested that she be married to one of the king's sons."

"What's the son's name?" Nyota asked, drowsily.

"He does not have..." Spock took a deep breath and thought for a moment. "The son of the king is called Tirek." Spock went on. "The news spread quickly through the house and very soon T'Muur's father," Spock hesitated, "T'Las, confronted his daughter. T'Las told T'Muur that he would no longer indulge her with freedoms that other unbonded females did not have. He confined her to her quarters , determined to have her bonded by the end of the month. T'Las contacted the king to make arrangements for Tirek to come to their clan's home for marital negotiations."

"Tirek was strong. His body was large and muscled. His father was a king. T'Las could think of no better match for T'Muur. Plus, T'Muur's marriage, should Tirek win her hand, would handsomely increase T'Las's fortune. T'Las was optimistic that Tirek would best all comers when the announcement of the betrothal was made. T'Muur, however, was not optimistic. A young servant had been carrying messages between T'Muur and Sasik. Sasik was determined to win T'Muur's hand so that he could make her his bondmate. He no longer wished to hide in the shadows of dawn and dusk."

"T'Muur was quite worried. Sasik was not like the other men in their land. Instead of being harsh and crude, he was kind and thoughtful. Unlike the warriors that met around T'Las's table after violent skirmishes, he calculated his actions carefully. He was strong, as required by his work, but he radiated calm. He was rational in all things. T'Muur was quite sure that Sasik would die at a stranger's hands and that, for her, was a fate more upsetting than her own death."

"Days after T'Muur's betrothal, T'Las woke to find his property occupied by 90 men and their respective entourages. T'Las was quite pleased. Many of the men looked wealthy and powerful. If Tirek was defeated, his daughter still had a significant chance marrying advantageously. T'Muur was not pleased. She scanned the crowd for Sasik but did not see him. Her servants encouraged her to be flattered that her betrothal had brought so many suitors, but she could not be. She grieved for Sasik and retreated."

"The dueling was organized as a tournament because so many had come to win her hand. Many of the men had never seen T'Muur but they still fought with each other wildly before the tournament began. The first round of the tournament was decided by lottery, the bodies of those who were overly eager for violence kicked out of the way to make an arena. T'Muur's servants updated her on the results. V'Paas from Gol was defeated in the second round and Tirek had defeated another competitor to advance to the third stage. Still, no word on Sasik. T'Muur wondered if his rational thought returned to him. If he lived, she thought, she could endure a marriage to any boorish male that won."

"Boorish? Really? That's such a strong word for a Vulcan to use Commander." Nyota said quietly.

"Lieutenant, would you like me to continue or not?" Spock looked down at Nyota. Her eyelids were heavy and her grip on his arm had reduced significantly. Still, she looked slightly off in color.

"Please go on." Nyota smiled widely at Spock. His annoyance at her interruption faded.

"Sasik had, however, entered the competition." Spock continued. "He was one of the nameless suitors. He disguised his identity with a suit of gleaming armor that both protected him from the blows and from the heat of the sun. Sasik was still quite rational, to the extent that he had begun creating the armor the first day that T'Muur had not greeted him as she normally did. He had forseen what would happen by thinking logically. Sasik was expert at swordplay. He had to be because of his occupation. He had to know what would make a sword most easy to wield. He had to know what weight would slice through an opponent. He had to test the sharpness of his blades. He constantly practiced his parries and thrusts. They were necessary for his continued success."

"Sasik was applying logic to his contests. His armor was specially made to allow air to cool his body, but reflected the sun to blind his fellow combatants. He remained calm while he fought. Many of the other suitors reacted in frustration to his quick movements. He was able to outwit them by remaining rational and using their emotion in his favor. Anger, Sasik found, simply distracted a warrior and made him careless. Sasik was not careless. He had too much at stake."

"On the second day of the tournament healers were called in to tend to those who had won their battles, but only barely. In those times, fights for bondmates were to the death and the red soil of T'Las's land was wet with green blood. Most of the suitors had been eliminated from competition and of the few that remained, only two were healthy enough to proceed. T'Muur had been coaxed out of her room to view the remaining competitors. She had not heard from Sasik so she assumed that he would be safe and was uninterested in those that remained in the field; however, when she walked out beside her father she immediately recognized Sasik in his shining armor. She did not need to see his face or body. She knew it was him. The craftsmanship of the armor should have made it obvious to all from their territory; however, the men of her family enjoyed speculating about where the anonymous warrior came from. From the condition of the rest of the suitors, T'Muur concluded that Sasik would end up fighting Tirek. She had no idea how Sasik had lasted so long without injury, but Tirek was their land's most bloodthirsty warrior. Again, she was ill with worry."

"T'Muur, very clever herself, approached her father with a plan. She asked her father what he knew of her suitors. T'Las admitted that he knew very little. T'Muur asked her father to change the competition to allow the suitors to demonstrate how they would provide for her. It was in both of their best interests, after all, T'Muur reasoned. T'Las very much enjoyed tradition and looked forward to the final deaths that would lead up his daughter's bonding, but he was also watching the results. The field had narrowed, but there were still many unknowns. He agreed with his daughter."

"Instead of resuming the tournament, T'Las permitted the suitors a day of rest. Many of them called out from the field, demanding more blood; however, T'Muur soothed them with the promise of her company should they refrain from fighting for a single day. She and T'Las thought of a manner in which to test the suitors' other abilities. At sunset, after a day of planning at her father's side, T'Muur bathed and put on her finest garments. She was carried on the shoulders of her brothers to avoid the thick mess of blood that saturated the soil. They placed her on a crude dais of volcanic rock and surrounded it so that no suitor would act inappropriately. The sons of T'Las rivaled the king's sons in their fierceness and T'Muur was her father's strategist. The combination T'Las's eight sons and one daughter made him second only to the king in might and cunning. T'Muur told her brothers to make a small space so that she could inspect each of the suitors. The two largest brothers shifted and T'Muur sat with her legs hanging over the sides of the dais, her brothers less than an arm's length away. In turn, ten of the remaining suitors hobbled toward her, their hands crusty with blood. She spoke to them in the manner of tradition, offering them praise on the blood that they spilled and their skill as warriors. The final two warriors were different."

"First, Tirek approached her. He was clean and healthy, but for small amounts of splatter that had blown back on him as he dispatched his his rivals. She had known Tirek since she was a child. He had never appeared interested in her. In fact, if the rumors were to be believed, he was _never _interested in females and had become such a well known warrior because it offered him opportunity to be amongst the strongest males of their time. T'Muur had always assumed that Tirek simply preferred the company of men and that he would never have to marry since his five older brothers had been quite prolific in producing heirs. Tirek was honorable, T'Muur supposed; he had never been cruel to her or her servants. He was the youngest child and somewhat spoiled, but T'Muur could say the same thing about herself. Tirek approached her, nodding curtly. He expressed his wish to kill the remaining men and fill her with his child. She responded conventionally, wishing his sword success in becoming slick and green. She nodded to him as he turned away."

"The final warrior came to her and she told her brothers to move away so that she could get closer to him and hear through his armor. Sasik knew that T'Muur was attempting to ensure their privacy. Sasik was also clean. His armor still shone brightly in the starlight and his movements were still fluid and smooth. Sasik had to press himself against T'Muur's knees so that she could hear him without him shouting. In the darkness, she ran her fingers down his armor and, finding no skin to grasp, touched his fingertips with hers to express her desire for his safety. Sasik was quite moved. He wished to touch her as well, however, his armor was so complete that the only portion that he could remove was that part that covered his forehead and eyes. He did so and pressed his forehead against hers."

"Oh Spock, that is so sweet. I love it." Nyota whispered.

"I am pleased that you are enjoying it Lieutenant. Shall I finish?" Spock watched as Nyota nodded, her head heavy, and went on. "T'Muur wished Sasik the most luck in finishing the competition. She whispered words to him with her forehead pressed against his. At last, Sasik re-covered his eyes with armor and went away from her, his fingertips pulling away reluctantly."

"At dawn, T'Las had a different challenge for the suitors. They were to each take the same amount of currency and return a day later having produced from it as much as possible. Several of the suitors balked at the challenge; reacting violently. T'Las was elderly; however, he was not weak. He finished them quickly, their blood pooling at his feet. T'Muur made her father believe that the plan was his. With such a belief in place, T'Las was very insistent that the remaining suitors complete the task. T'Muur was pleased. The amount of currency was barely enough to buy a piece of fruit from a vendor, yet the suitors were off. T'Las did not tell the competitors that they would each be watched by a servant. This task would also test honor."

"T'Muur was anxious all night. She hoped that her plan would take advantage of Sasik's gifts. She had told no one who he was. She wondered whether he would be able to remain anonymous during this task or if he would have to reveal himself. T'Muur was at her father's door early. She encouraged him to quicken his pace. Once the family was up, T'Muur anxiously led them out to meet with her potential bondmates. T'Muur stood with her parents on the dais in the center of their homestead. Again, her brothers surrounded them, a dangerous wall of flesh. T'Las told each warrior to bring forth what he had accomplished. Four of the warriors lied. They used their own currency to purchase valuables. T'Las ordered them killed on the spot. He had no use for those without honor. Three suitors came back with very little, barely more than they started out with. T'Las sent them away, humiliated."

"Finally, two suitors were left. Sasik still wore his armor and he carried with him a sack with a fist sized object within. Tirek carried a much larger object, an ax that was as wide as he was and at least a meter taller. T'Las demanded that they explain their discoveries. Tirek explained the origins of the ax. It had been formed of the blades of the most celebrated warriors of the past and had tasted the blood of more than 100,000 combatants. He also explained how he had come into its possession. He had traded the small amount of money for items that increased in value until he was able to secure the deed of the weaponsmith's shop. The weaponsmith's son was not there and the weaponsmith, eager to secure his son's future, was happy to trade his most precious possession for ownership of the shop. T'Muur was disheartened but T'Las was very impressed. Even he had not thought that Tirek would be so successful."

"Finally, Sasik stepped forward. The item that he held was not so big and for once, his armor did not gleam. T'Muur clung to her mother for support. Sasik presented them a jewel of a type they had never seen before. Tirek, however, seemed to know exactly what it was. He lunged for Sasik. Sasik moved out of the way, but only after losing the uppermost portion of his armor. T'Las recognized Sasik and became enraged. Sasik was able to fend off T'Muur's brothers and Tirek until T'Muur calmed her father. She was impressed by Sasik's skills. T'Muur asked her father why he was angry when Sasik had performed just as well as the king's son in the tournament. She soothed him, convincing him to simply listen to what Sasik had achieved before making a decision."

"Sasik revealed what Tirek already knew. He had retrieved the Stone of Gol, still so rich with the powers of the gods, that it glowed red like the fires of Vulcan volcanoes. It was a stone that made kings on this world, carrying with it knowledge of warfare, peacemaking and death. T'Las knew the legends but wanted to know how Sasik had retrieved it from the king. Sasik asked T'Las if he meant to pronounce him victorious. T'Las was unsure. Sasik must be quite the warrior to have defeated so many and come back in only a day with the Stone of Gol. Still, he had allegiances to the current king and he still wanted to see a battle to the death. T'Las decreed that the two were equally successful in their tasks, although no one believed it. Everyone knew that Sasik was the victor. T'Las demanded one last battle between Sasik and Tirek to decide who would marry T'Muur."

"The battle went on for four days before Tirek finally gave in to his anger, allowing Sasik to win. The sword that Sasik used was the very best and he killed Tirek quickly. He had no interest in causing suffering. T'Muur lept into his arms. He carried her away to tell her the story of wits that would allow him to rule the land. They were melded and they produced many children. They taught the virtues of controlling their emotions and of peace, for peacemaking was also a virtue. Hundreds of years later, when T'Muur and Sasik were very old and wise, one of their descendants came to them with a newborn. The he asked his ancestors for opinions on the name he had chosen for the boy. The young male told them he wished to call the boy Surak. When asked why he chose that name, the young father said that he could think of none more logical than the Great King Sasik and his Brilliant Queen T'Muur, and that Surak was a perfect combination of those names. The boy was inspected by the queen and king, and deemed to be very intelligent indeed."

Spock looked down at Nyota who was breathing steadily with her eyes closed. He closed his eyes as well. When he and Nyota returned to the bridge, Spock received a round of applause. Spock tilted his head.

"What are you doing?" Spock said, genuinely confused. Sulu responded.

"Great story Commander," Sulu smiled at Spock, knowing that it would not be returned.

"He's right Spock," Kirk interrupted. "Maybe the next time I've got space sickness, you can tell _me _a story." Nyota, and the rest of the bridge crew laughed. Spock simply cocked an eyebrow.


End file.
